An Especially Bad Day
by SootyPaws
Summary: Set in the year after Katie leaves Hogwarts. Marcus is a top Quidditch player and she is taking on a summer job to help pay the rent. What happens when they bump into each other after an especially bad day?
1. Chapter 1

**An Especially Bad Day**

**Chapter 1**

Katie glanced down at her watch for the third time that evening and sighed. She'd taken a job at 'Le Club Noire' over the summer with her friend Angelina, not knowing what else to do with her first few months out of school, and if she was being honest with herself, for the welcome paycheque. It was the kind of club that screamed 'elite'. The main room was made up largely of a massive dance floor lit from beneath and the ceiling was hung with all the latest lighting and a special dry ice style mist that hissed out in waves over the crowd. Around three sides of the room the walls had been dotted with private booths for VIP members and along the last ran a dark polished bar, the same one Katie had been working behind for six weeks.

She shot a look down the bar at Ange who was serving a group of men in well tailored suits. Her friend returned the look with a smug one of her own. Katie laughed. Ange had to be the biggest flirt on the planet, second only to her boyfriend of three years Fred Weasley. She supposed it made sense that the two would find each other eventually although she hadn't expected it to be after a particularly vicious Quidditch game in sixth year.

Her next customer cleared her throat loudly and Katie found herself groaning at the familiar face of her other best friend Alicia Spinnet. She was in a silver spangly top to contrast with her dark hair and a skirt that was short enough to be considered a safety hazard to all men in the room. Realising she'd caught Katie's eye she tapped the delicate silver watch on her wrist expectantly.

'What time do you call this?'

'Five to eleven.'

'You can't get off five minutes early?' Alicia's eyes widened in a practised pleading expression.

'No.'

'Come on Kates, our song's about to play and we are not going to miss it.'

'No.'

Katie rolled her eyes as Ali clasped her hands together and mimicked begging.

'Fine.'

Her friend gave her a small smile and tugged her around the end of the bar. 'So where are your spare clothes?'

'For work?'

'Yes, your 'work' happens to be behind the bar of an exclusive club!' She sighed. 'Never mind, you look fine.'

She had to admit it was true. Even in a plain black tank top and low slung jeans Katie looked fantastic. She had a wide blue eyes framed with sooty lashes and a mass of loose gold-blonde curls tumbling down her back.

Katie laughed and allowed herself to be dragged onto the floor. Like Alicia had predicted she could hear the opening lines of 'Break the Ice' as they reached an empty spot near the centre of the dancers and exchanged a sly smile. Being a pair of half bloods both had been attending muggle dance classes for years and it had become customary for them to spend at least two hours on the floor after Katie's shift finished. The crowd began to thin out as regulars recognised who had joined them. Then, with a short count in from Alicia, she began to dance.

...

Marcus Flint was not having a good day. They'd lost. Worse than that they'd lost badly. Even worse than that they'd lost badly to Puddlemere United. He slammed a fist into his locker ignoring the bruise that was more than likely to form across his knuckles.

'I'd quit that. You need your hand for next week.'

He turned and saw Pucey following him into the changing room. He slammed his fist into the locker again to show just what he thought of his team mate's suggestions.

'Fine, don't say I didn't mention it.'

A silence descended between the two as Pucey moved over to his own locker and started to strip out of his mud soaked Quidditch gear. The other man looked down at his own filthy robes and followed suit.

'Wood was on fire today.'

There was a low growl from somewhere within the bundle of material half way over Flint's head.

'I'm just saying. The guy looked hype. I don't think we could have done much more.'

Marcus had to agree with that. The Scottish git had been in his element, ducking and lunging between the three hoops. It was probably just the rush of playing his first professional match. No doubt the rush of celebrating would hit him even harder he thought bitterly as he tugged on a pair of dark slacks.

'Some of the guys are heading out for a drink at the club, see if we can pick up a few groupies for the night. Interested?'

Flint grunted non-commitedly.

'It's that or go home to an empty bed and relive the worst few hours of your life in a load of prophet headlines…'

At this Pucey saw his friend straighten up and reach for his black button down, considering the idea with a more open mind. 'And drinks are on me.'

Marcus turned, his shirt done up with only the top two buttons hanging open giving a view that sent most girls mad before he'd even spoken, and gave his friend a rogue smile. 'Which club?'


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note:__Sorry if chapter 1 didn't go into enough detail, I just wanted to set the scene. Anyway, no need to worry because the plot bunnies have visited bringing me enough chocolate and ideas to get through a few more chapters in the next couple of weeks Please R&R to let me know if there's anything you'd like me to include later in the story and what you think so far…_

_Disclaimer:__I don't own HP or any of the character but if J.K. were willing to sell I'd be more than happy to buy Flint _

**Chapter 2**

Marcus had never been a fan of apparition. He preferred flying, feeling the breeze against his skin and the surge of power that came with steering a broom, or even a fast car (of which he had two). Still, he had to accept Pucey's argument that flying a broom over London seemed a little too conspicuous and parking in the city would prove a nightmare. Apparition it was then.

The men arrived outside Club Noire and were waved through the red cord by a pair of imposing guards. A pretty redhead in six inch heels led them through the dark room to a booth where the rest of their team were already seated, dejectedly staring at a pile of papers in the centre of the table. Most showed a victorious Wood grinning sheepishly at the camera while some instead displayed the final moments where the Puddlemere seeker stretched to catch the snitch. Flint slid onto the end of the bench and cleared the papers off the table to use as extra seat padding. This at least was met with a few amused snickers.

'Can I get you anything?' the redhead purred, batting long lashes at the Falcons captain. Flint raked his eyes over her figure again, there was nothing wrong with her, he supposed she might even be quite attractive out of the restrictive blue mini dress. 'Maybe later.'

She shot him a wide smile and nodded before tottering off to the next booth, looking back more than once.

'That was quick.' Pucey's eyes were following the redhead, or more specifically her behind across the room. Marcus shrugged and downed a shot of Firewhisky. 'Groupies are all the same, no reason to be picky about it.'

He felt a shoulder nudge his own and turned to see one of his beaters, Ripley, studying something towards the centre of the room, 'Take a look at that.' Flint followed his gaze and saw a space on the dance floor where two girls were dancing, surrounded by a group of impressed observers. Both were small and slim, one with straight silky dark hair and the other with soft blonde curls. For a moment they seemed familiar. Had he picked them up after a game sometime? No, he was pretty sure he'd remember _that_ experience. He watched as they swayed their hips in perfect time and then broke into a series of complicated steps. He could only imagine the amount of practice that went into coordinating their movements as they spun, weaved and locked to the music. The other dancers yelled encouragement as they dropped to the floor in a way that could only be described as incredibly seductive and then hugged each other as the song ended to mass applause. Marcus found himself clapping along with the rest of his table before a tall dark girl broke free of the crowd to join them. Seeing all three together he suddenly realised where it was he knew them from, clutching each other and jumping up and down excitedly in exactly the same way a few years earlier. The Gryffindor chasers.

'Didn't they go to school with us?' Pucey asked him as the next song filtered in through the speakers and the applause died down.

He nodded, 'Wood's girls.'

'Ah. Then why aren't they celebrating with him tonight?'

'Why don't you go ask them that?'

He shrugged. 'You've always been keen on the blonde.'

Flint's expression was blank. Pucey personally though someone should have stuck a post it note to his forehead saying 'dead end'. They wouldn't live very long but it would give the rest of them a good laugh.

Marcus leaned back in his chair and watched the three girls make their way back to the bar. It was true. He'd had a thing for Bell at Hogwarts. She was pretty, intelligent and good at Quidditch. Not to mention she didn't like him for his money or name. In fact she didn't like him at all. Instead she'd been mooning over an oblivious Wood since third year. She'd grown up a bit since then. Her hair wasn't gathered in its past messy ponytail and she'd developed curves in all the right places as opposed to the scrawny girl he'd played against on the school pitch. And since when had she learned to dance like _that_? His pants were feeling uncomfortably tight after her display and it took thinking of Snape in her place to instil some self control. Still, Bell might make a nice consolation prize after the afternoon's disaster.

Katie smiled as Ben, the bartender who'd taken over from her, offered her a drink. She knew she really need to stop letting Alicia drag her into these things but it was just so much fun! As if reading her mind Alicia slipped into the seat next to her and beamed. 'Aren't you glad I make you so impulsive?'

'Of course I am Ali.'

'Too right.' She took her own drink from Ben with small smile and clinked her glass against Katie's. 'Cheers.'

'You guys were fantastic!' Angelina gushed, taking the seat on Katie's other side, 'I can't think of one guy in this room who doesn't want either of you right now.'

'Ange!' Katie groaned. Her friends could be a little blunt, there was nothing really wrong with it but as the baby of the group it still embarrassed her a little.

'She's right you know,' Alicia smirked, 'We need never go home alone again, on the subject of which…' Her eyes roamed the dance floor and landed on a tall man with his back to them. 'Hello.'

The other girls turned to assess Ali's choice. He was a good couple of heads taller than all of them with broad shoulders and a toned back that made itself apparent even through his dark shirt. His short hair was also dark and Katie's eyes ran to where his face should have been. Unfortunately it was buried in the hollow of his red headed partner's neck and whatever he was doing must have been pretty intimate because she was eliciting a series of low moans. Katie blushed and looked away only to find Alicia and Angelina looking impressed.

'If he can get a girl to make noises like that in the middle of a club imagine what he must be like in…'

'Let's dance,' she interrupted, pulling her friends back into the general chaos of the dance floor. They exchanged knowing looks but followed her anyway, clearing a path through the couples and groups and taking up a free space. Katie felt out the beat and began to sway her hips, raising her arms up behind her head. Alicia, getting bored, grabbed a good looking blonde guy by the back of his collar and spun him to face her, linking her arms behind his neck. He seemed surprised but not objecting and dropped his hands to her waist. Angie rolled her eyes and she and Katie laughed. Just then the tinny Nokia theme broke out from the first girl's pocket. She drew out a slim silver phone. Glancing at the screen she shot Katie a guilty smile. 'It's Fred, god knows how he managed to use a mobile but I'd better take it.'

Katie nodded and watched as her friend left the dance floor cooing down the phone to her boyfriend. She thought about following Ally's example but none of the men around her seemed particularly worth the trouble. She began to lower her arms, readying herself for a trip back to the bar and a chat with Ben when a pair of large hands locked around her wrists. They were rough and calloused, so her partner was a Quidditch player. She was considering turning around to find out just who had decided to join her when a head bent down to her shoulder.

'It's always more interesting when you don't know everything angel.'


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks for the reviews, especially to warrington's girl and allycat1186 for the story+ and cinroc for the helpful advise. Don't worry, Katie's not that easy. I hope this chapter keeps you guys happy and i'm trying to write as fast as i can while maintaining at least a low amount of quality. Enjoy and as always R&R. Thanks :)_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing except the humble and very broken laptop on which I type this story. _

Holy Merlin she was fantastic! The redhead had been good but Bell put her to shame. She moulded to him perfectly, her soft curves fitting to his hard angles. The sway of her hips was enough to leave him aroused but the fingers unintentionally tracing patterns across the back of his neck, and the way her hips into his in time with the music caused him to clench his teeth. She had to know the effect she was having on him. Who was he kidding? She was probably imagining a dance with Oliver- sodding- Wood.

This wasn't fair. He wasn't going to be the only one hot and bothered around here. With a small grin he lowered his head, breathing gently against her hair. He felt her stiffen slightly against him and a smirk flickered on his face. Leaning into her he nipped the soft skin at the hollow of her neck. He could hear her draw a shallow breath but it appeared she wouldn't be moaning for him here in public. More stubborn than the redhead too… Oh well, plenty of time for that later. He drew back and resumed his stance behind her with a quiet, self-satisfied laugh.

What he hadn't expected was for her to out do him. He was just sinking back into the rhythm when he felt Bell's hands leave his neck and trail down to his chest. Too late he realised what she was going to do. The slim blonde figure in front of him slid down the length of his body and slowly eased herself up again never breaking the contact between them. Marcus groaned involuntarily. 'You shouldn't play with fire Bell,' he chided.

Katie stopped dancing. He'd just called her Bell. Whoever she was dancing with knew her name. Slowly she turned and took in the face of her partner. A strong jaw framed a face with deep green eyes and even with the dentistry that had made his smile white and even Katie knew him. Flint. She'd just spent the last few minutes pressed up against the Slytherin Quidditch captain. She'd been encouraging him. This was wrong, and yet…why was he smiling at her like that? And why in Dumbledore's name did she want to smile back?

They'd been enemies at Hogwarts. He'd push her off her broom and she'd break his nose with a quaffle. He'd call her names in the hall and she'd hex him with the bat bogies curse. Anything else seemed strange, unreal. But she had to admit he'd changed since school and it wasn't just the teeth. He no longer looked like a troll, it was as if all the extra muscle in his body that had made him beefy before had found a place to go. His overly large features fitted into his face making his mouth generous, his nose straight and only very slightly crooked, probably her fault somewhere along the line. And wasn't he famous now? He played for Falmouth Falcons, he was the captain. He must live in some expensive manor somewhere with peacocks and waiting maids and people whose job it was to follow him around all day and fan his broad toned…

She broke out of her reverie and noticed Flint watching her silently. 'Bell?'

'You.'

'Me,' he agreed and she could hear the suppressed laughter in his voice.

'But…'she trailed off, losing her mental foothold. It was taking a lot of mental control to stop her reaching out and touching the flat plains of his chest revealed by the missing buttons on his shirt.

His face became serious and she straightened up, chiding herself. What the hell is wrong with you Katie? Have some self-respect! You're not some sad little Quidditch groupie!

'Bell, you've started something here,' his eyes held hers, not allowing her to look away. 'Now the question is, are you going to do something about it or do I need to go elsewhere?' His gaze travelled to the redhead who'd shown him in and who he'd danced with earlier. She couldn't understand why but a prickle of jealousy ran through her at the idea of him sauntering out of the club with his arm around the waist of that slut. Oh my god, had she just called that girl a slut? What was _wrong_ with her?

Flint's eyes were on her again and it was obvious he wanted an answer soon. She tried to keep her brain straight and think about the situation logically. Who was she kidding? There was no logic involved. A tall, gorgeous, rich Quidditch star was standing in front of her and he wanted her. On the other hand this tall, gorgeous, rich Quidditch star was Flint who had been known to loathe her and who she was pretty sure had tried to kill her at school on more than one occasion. But…and then…and…She let out an unintelligible noise somewhere between a squeal and a groan.

'Bell?' Flint's face looked expectant and she thought just little amused.

'Katie!' A slim arm slid around her waist and she turned to see Ange grinning at her, closely followed by a giggling Ali who had ditched her blonde partner. As she reached them she tossed a strand of dark hair over her shoulder and linked her arm through Katie's empty one. 'There you are. Aren't you going to introduce us to…' She eyed Flint, impressed.

'No way.' Ange had stopped smiling was gawping at them as if she'd just seen a hippogriff materialise in front of her. 'Fint?'

'You can't be serious Ange.' Ali giggled and then stopped dead when as the impact of what she'd seen and heard hit her. 'Ohmigosh.'

Flint stood patiently, his eyes still fixed on Katie. 'If you don't mind, i'm afraid we were busy,' he said politely.

'Oh trust me, we mind. We mind one hell of a lot.'

The arm around her waist tightened as Katie found herself being steered towards the exit of the club. 'We'll be on our way. Some other time Flint,' Ange called back breezily to the waiting Falcons Captain as she and Ali escorted their friend from the floor.

Turning back Katie caught a glimpse of Marcus watching her. The expression on his face was unreadable but if she'd hoped for disappointment seeing him beckon to a familiar redhead and return to his booth to collect his jacket proved otherwise. Had she actually expected anything else? Sighing, she allowed herself to be hustled out of the club and apparated home.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Wow, thanks to all my reviewers who keep reviewing every chapter. Big hugs to all of you and i promise to write faster! So anyway, thanks again and i'll just get on with it now._

_Disclaimer: Not mine...yet. evil laugh_

**Chapter 4**

"What were you thinking?!" Angelina Johnson was fuming more than the kettle next to her.

Katie looked up sheepishly from her chipped Eeyore mug and drew her dressing gown tighter around herself. 'I don't know?' she suggested cautiously. Wrong answer.

"No. You didn't know. You were just completely clueless! I mean…" She sighed frustratedly and leaned against the counter, heaping teaspoons of coffee into her own mug, 'What were you thinking?'

Katie stared down at the marked wood of the kitchen table. What _had_ she been thinking? Flint was the last person on earth she'd even think of…but she'd wanted to…

"He did look hot," Ali admitted across from her, ducking in case Ange decided to send a teaspoon flying her way. It was true though. Somewhere over the last few years Flint had become undeniably attractive, and it wasn't just the way he looked. His previous barks as he had addressed his school team had become a low, smooth drawl which managed to sound both arrogant and sexy at the same time, and he'd stopped hunching over when he walked.

'I did see him first,' Ali glanced up at her, 'You know, with the redhead. So technically...' Katie's eyes widened. Ali _had_ spotted him across the floor after their dance, but she wouldn't actually claim him would she? But then again, he was, well…

'Just kidding!' Ali laughed at the pained expression on her face, 'He's all yours.'

'He's not anyone's,' Ange corrected, glaring at them. 'Being hot doesn't excuse the fact that he's a thick, cheating, you-know-who worshipping, slimy, arrogant, rot-in-hell bastard.'

The other girls exchanged a look.

'Maybe he's changed,' Ali suggested, shrugging as she took a sip of hot coffee and sighed contentedly, 'It always happens in films.'

'Slytherins don't change.'

'Now you're just holding a Hogwarts Quidditch grudge my dear _ex_-captain. But anyway, you kids argue it out amongst yourselves, I'm off to call Jake.'

'Who's Jake?' Katie asked, trying to change the subject before she was left alone with a murderous Angelina. Alicia mimed dancing and grabbed the cordless phone, heading for her room.

'She means the blonde right?'

Ange nodded. 'Look, Kates…'

Katie laughed. 'It's ok. It was a huge mistake and I'm just glad you guys caught me.' And she was. Well, sort of.

Marcus analysed his reflection in the bathroom mirror and groaned. His dark hair was plastered to his head by the jet of cold water he'd been standing under and his torso shimmered slightly in the low lighting as rivulets of water trickled down the planes of his chest to the thick white towel hugging his hips.

He should have brought back the redhead. She had been pretty enough that he wouldn't mind being caught out with her, smart enough that she wouldn't expect anything concrete and eager enough not to question him. He knew he was being stupid when he'd packed her into a cab. But she wasn't Bell. She wouldn't laugh at him or refuse to back down. She wouldn't discuss Quidditch or let her lips quirk in an unconscious smile. And she wouldn't look gloriously rumpled between his Egyptian cotton sheets. Shit. He needed to stop thinking like that before he was forced to get straight back into the shower he'd just left.

Tugging on a dark dressing gown he padded across the thick oak floors of his Kensington apartment to the kitchen for a black coffee and then probably a stiff drink. Maybe he could burn Wood's pictures from the Prophet while he was at it.

Feeling oddly comforted he sat back on the leather couch and reached for the nearest paper. Just as he began tearing off the front page the warm flames formed a large face in his fireplace.

'What now Pucey?'

'Just warning you not to get too hammered tonight mate, practice tomorrow remember? We're playing the Cannons on Friday.'

'Scheduling practices before a Cannon's game? That's a bit insulting.'

'Tell me about it…' Pucey was interrupted by a distinctly feminine giggle, 'Look mate, I'd better…'

'Yeah,' Marcus drawled. 'You'd probably better had.'

His teammate's grin slowly faded into the coals leaving Marcus to brood alone. He reached out for the paper again and stopped. Small green lines were appearing across his forearm scrawling something in small loopy handwriting. 'Call me. Grace. xo.' A mobile number glistened underneath in wet green ink. Flint laughed quietly and picked up the phone. He keyed in the numbers and listened to it ring twice at the other end before someone picked up.

'Hello.' The voice was soft, husky and evidently smug.

'Hi.' Marcus smirked. 'I was told to call this number. Who is this?'

She obviously hadn't expected that. She hesitated for a moment, 'We met tonight, the club, blue dress…'

He paused as if considering the information.

'Red hair.'

'Oh yeah.' His grin widened. 'I remember you.'


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thank you so much for not giving up on me guys and thank you to Ceylon who convinced me to get my pen hand moving, this chapter is for you ^^_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even this laptop ._

Chapter 5

Katie sighed and dumped a large plastic tub on the bar surface with a satisfying thud. Gathering the scattered collection of glasses from the night before she stacked them on the already tottering pile and wiped down the dark wood. Ben followed behind dutifully collecting the small black and gold embossed squares that acted as place mats. Though she'd never admit it Katie found them about as understated as your average Slytherin trophy wife.

'So, I met a girl last night.'

Katie arched an eyebrow which he took as an invitation to continue.

'Tall, toned, brunette and get this, single to boot.'

'How incredibly not your type,' Katie laughed as they moved from the bar to the VIP booths, gathering abandoned tableware.

'And just what is my type Miss Bell, if you'd be so kind?'

She paused, 'Hmm, I'd have to say.. married, kids optional.'

'Hey, that was only once and in my defence I didn't know!'

'Of course you didn't. So does Mystery Woman have a name?'

A wide grin spread across Ben's face, 'What do you take me for Miss Bell? A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell! I'm pretty sure you two will get along though.'

'And why's that?' She grabbed a final glass from a nearby table and reached for the ties of her black half-apron.

'Because she's invited us to go see her play Quidditch this weekend.'

Katie's face lit up as she dumped the scrap of black material on top of the tub and released her hair from it's messy pony tail, 'Seriously? You're dating a Quidditch player?'

'Not just any Quidditch player, Anna Evangeline. Ranked Witch Weekly's most attractive female athlete for the past 3 years.'

'Mr Hayes, I thought gentlemen didn't kiss and tell!'

He laughed and ducked as she swung her apron at his head, 'Ah but Miss Bell, who says I'm a gentleman?'

'Fair point,' she admitted giving up on the apron attack and settling for a gentle cuff round the head instead.

'So, are you in?'

Katie laughed, 'Of course, can I tell Ali and Ange?'

'Naturally, it wouldn't be the same without my fearsome threesome now would it? However, there is one condition..'

'And what's that?'

A sly smile spread across his face, 'You have to say Ben is my hero.'

'Ben is my hero,' Katie dutifully replied, throwing in a small army salute.

'Fifty times.'

* * *

Marcus raised a hand against the unwelcome light flooding his bedroom and groaned softly. Who the fuck had the audacity to pull back his curtains? He glanced across to his alarm clock and read the time in silent horror, 8.00AM. This was not happening.

The sound of heels clicking against his polished wooden floor sent memories racing through his brain at a dizzying pace ending in, the redhead. She leant against the door frame in what Marcus recognised as one of his more expensive shirts and a pair of stilettos designed to make walking an Olympic feat. It was obvious that she'd spent a good hour in the bathroom fixing a new layer of make-up and brushing any passion formed tangles out of her sleek mane. 'Morning,' she purred, sauntering across the room and crawling onto the bed. 'How did you sleep?'

'You opened the curtains.' It was a statement, not a question.

She laughed. 'Of course I did. I have work in an hour and I couldn't leave without saying goodbye, could I?'

'Of course you could,' he mimicked her saccharine tone, 'I wouldn't have minded in the slightest.'

The smile froze on her face and twisted momentarily into a grimace before she composed herself. The smile returned and the redhead sashayed across the floor to pick up the crumpled blue dress that had made a home for itself over a nearby lamp. 'Well, I'd better get ready then,' she murmured, reaching for the front of the shirt. Marcus gave a curt nod and rolled over burying his face in his pillow. Seriously, who the fuck got up at 8.00AM?


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Here's the second chapter of the day as promised ^^ Who knows? There may be a third... Anyway, I hope I'm making up for all the time lost and that you _almost_ forgive me. I was slightly worried about having a screen like you would in a muggle sports match but since they use one in the film for HP and the GoF at the Quidditch World Cup I figured it was allowable. I'm so proud of myself, I actually read Quidditch Through The Ages in preparation for this chapter so all the tactics and mottos and team colours here are accurate!  
_

_Disclaimer: Marcus owns my heart but JK owns Marcus_

**Chapter 6**

It was 8.00AM on Saturday morning and somewhere in the dusky streets of London a phone was ringing..

'Rise and shine.'

'Fuck of Pucey, it's eight AM.'

'Oh very good Flint. Now get your ass down here, we've got a game in four hours and Coach wants to run us through the plays again.'

'Coach is a Quidditch Nazi.'

'I'm sure he'll be flattered to hear you say so, at practice.'

Marcus groaned and rolled over, sending himself and his blankets to the floor with a muffled..

* * *

Thud. Katie picked herself up off the ground and glared at their teddy bear port key. So much for cute and cuddly, as far as she was concerned that thing was pure evil. Next to her Alicia was looking winded while Ben spat out a mouthful of dirt. Ange was standing above the rest of them looking smug, 'Looks like you guys haven't got in enough air time recently.'

'Just because you're a reserve for some chicks' team, ' Ben didn't have time to finish his sentence before Ange descended on him. 'The Holyhead Harpies are not a chicks' team!' she screeched.

Katie laughed and watched as Ben paid the price for his mistake until Alicia grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her. She came face to face with a colossal stadium which stared her down as if daring her to look away. Dark glass storeys towered above them in a sleek oval and ordaining the entrance the team's motto shone in silver lettering, 'Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.' Katie felt an unwarranted shiver run down her spine. 'Welcome to the home of the Falmouth Falcons.'

Alicia laughed. 'How friendly. Come on, I want some Pumpkin Pasties.'

The energy inside the stadium was electric and Katie felt it rush over her in a wave of excitement. Alicia returned with her food and a pair of omnioculars for Ange so she could analyse enemy strategy. Together the girls began the trek upwards following a series of enchanted silver numbers that floated like flags above the various storeys. 'Tier sixteen,' the last one intoned as they approached. Finally they came to an empty row of black benches and began removing their coats. Hisses filled the air from the tier above as Ben and Ange joined them, still bickering in their respective Wasps and Harpies team colours. In most stadiums fans were randomly seated but wherever the Falcons played tiers were divided between teams in order keep relative peace and avoid the inevitable duelling.

Katie ignored them and turned her attention to the view, sixty feet below her the clipped green turf of the Quidditch pitch spread out like a blanket and with the help of the omnioculars she could make out the heavy wooden chest from which the balls would be released at the start of the game. Ahead of her a large screen rolled the highlights and best plays of the two teams and their opposing captains. She watched as the Wasps' Thomas Short pulled out an impressive Wronski Faint and then leading the Falcons chasers in a Hawkshead Attacking Formation she stared into the high definition eyes of Marcus Flint.

* * *

Marcus barely acknowledged the thunderous roar of cheers that echoed through the changing rooms every time someone opened the door. Finishing the ties on his robes he reached for his Nimbus 2003. The slick black coat of paint complimented the Falcon's charcoal and white colours. Keeping that white white would signify playing a clean game, needless to say that was very rarely the case. To his left Warrington aimed a salute at the framed robes of Kevin and Karl Broadmoor, twin beaters for the team who had managed an impressive fourteen suspensions from the Department of Magical Games and Sport between 1958-69. Beneath the robes a quote had been engraved into a silver plaque, from leading sports journalist of the Daily Prophet, Ross Gillson, _'The brothers' brutal style of Quidditch play is particularly apt, as Broadmoor is an English high-security prison for mentally insecure criminals.' _

Marcus laughed as he too saluted the robes before turning to address his team. 'Do whatever it takes to win other than kill someone, the season's only just begun and I can't afford to bail all of you out of Azkaban.' A cheer ran through the ranks as a young boy tentatively pushed open the door letting in yet another burst of noise, 'Sorry sir, they're ready for you.' Marcus smiled at his mascot, usually they were stuck up little brats from some pure blood family but this one at least had manners.

'Thank you..'

'Bobby.'

'Thank you Bobby, we'll be out now.'

The team filed into line behind Flint and moved into the pit corridor leading out onto the pitch. Taking Bobby's hand in his left he extended his right hand to Thomas Short across from him, 'Good Game.'

The Seeker nodded taking it while clutching the hand of his own overeager mascot, 'You too.'


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"_Oh, the thrill of the chase as I soar through the air  
With the Snitch up ahead and the wind in my hair  
As I draw ever closer, the crowd gives a shout  
But then comes a Bludger and I am knocked out._"

Katie laughed as the chants echoed from the surrounding stands. 'Pasty?' Alicia offered, thrusting the bag towards her face, eyes focused on a cute wizard two rows ahead with messy brown hair. Katie silently wondered what had happened to Jake from the club but thought better than to ask, instead taking a pasty and biting into the warm casing. She'd never really been a fan until she had arrived at Hogwarts but she supposed drinking pumpkin juice at breakfast, lunch and dinner for seven years could change your mind.

The crowd were suddenly silenced as the screen turned white showing only a Falcon and a Wasp with a large zero printed beneath each. A voice boomed through the stadium, 'Hello and welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the second Falcons' game of the season. We are proud to announce, having finished our count, that we've filled thirty thousand seats today. The team would, as ever, like to thank you for your continued support.'

Cheers and screams rose from the stadium as Katie tried to imagine a time when she'd ever known that many people in one space, aside from the Quidditch World Cup or a Weird Sisters UK Tour.

'Tonight's game will be played against the Wimborne Wasps.' As the voice continued a collective hiss rang out from the Falcons spectators. A large bird of prey, similar to a patronus erupted from the Falcons' goalpost and at the other end of the pitch a wasp did the same. The two illusions charged, circling and heckling each other before bursting into an eruption of glittering light.

'And now, ladies and gentlemen, the visiting team, the Wimborne Wasps! I give you – Mitchell!' The first player of the night made his way out onto the pitch, kicking off from the turf and soaring up towards the goalposts.

'Frayn! Gray! Marr! Harrison!' Four more black and yellow clad wizards shot from the pit.

'Evangeline!' The only witch on the pitch, she smiled confidently at the crowd and their thunderous applause for Witch Weekly's Most Attractive Female Athlete three years running.

'And their captain, Short.' In Katie's opinion the name was an oxymoron, Short had to be at least six foot five, a friendly giant. It was surprising considering his size that he played a position like seeker but his record proved that his height played no part on the pitch.

The team circled to a mass of cheers and boos from respective fans before taking their places in their half of the field.

'And now, tonight's home team, the Falmouth Falcons! Caine!' A player in white and grey robes sped like a bullet towards the second set of goalposts.

'Hawthorne! Doyle! Ripley!'

'Pucey! Warrington!' Katie recognised the two from Hogwarts. Warrington's perfectly mussed blonde hair wasn't even ruffled by the wind and Pucey's tan looked like the product of three weeks on a Grecian island. No wonder they were Witch Weekly's Charming Chasers nearly every week. Katie silently wondered if there was a hair and make-up team stowed away in the Falcon's changing room.

'And their captain, Flint!' The resulting roar was deafening as Flint strode out onto the pitch and ruffled the hair of his team mascot before mounting his broom and taking off to the cheers of the crowd.

The Falcons performed their circuit of the stands and found their places on the pitch as the referee made his way onto the field. The anticipation climbed and finally he kicked the ball chest open before mounting his broom and joining the players in the air.

'And off they go!'

Suddenly it was a blur of action. The chasers dove for the quaffle and the fight began.

* * *

'Warrington! Pucey! Warrington! Oh wait, and it's Marr, Marr with the quaffle! Marr! Evangeline! Harrison! Nice bludger by Doyle and now it's Flint! Flint! Pucey! Flint! And they're heading for the goalposts! Dodge past Mitchell! And I believe that makes the score 60 - 20 to the Falcons!

An hour in and the match raged on. Three penalties had already been awarded for various cases of blatching and naturally all of the fouls had been made by Falcons. But while it was fair to say they played dirty even Angelina grudgingly admitted to their skill. The chasers took full advantage of having known each other ten years and almost never felt the need to communicate. The beaters were vicious but accurate and Hawthorne might have caught the snitch if it weren't for the distraction of Ripley running Frayn into the ground nearby. Katie recognised some of the more traditional plays from her own time on the field, like the Porskoff Ploy and Sloth Grip Roll but some were brand new and undoubtedly the work of Flint.

'And Flint again! It's another goal from the Falcons captain! 70-20!' Speak of the devil.

Flint made his fourth victory circuit smiling at his fans as he passed. She noticed his cocky streak that had been the source of most most Gryffindor non-beaters' temptation to grab a bat had gone. Instead there was just a genuine pride in his work and in his team. Despite herself she smiled as he drew closer laughing genially at the cheers of the West Stand and just for a fraction of a second she thought he'd noticed her before he passed on and returned to his team. Only to throw a look back over his shoulder and wink. She gasped. He did not just wink at her..

'Merlin! Did he just wink at you Katie?' Ben asked gaping.

'He did not just wink at you!' Ange growled.

'Cheeky bastard!' Ali laughed.

Within seconds the whole of her tier in their yellow and black colours were staring at the blonde girl on the recieving end of enemy flirtation. Did they think that she was a fraterniser? That maybe she was a Falcons spy? Sweet Merlin, she was doomed! With a weak smile at her friends Katie sunk lower into her seat wishing it would swallow her whole.


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Yay! Another chapter and a reasonably long one at that. Thought it was time for a bit of banter. Sorry it took a while to finish but I thought since I churned out 3 in a day last time you might forgive me. Hope you enjoy and please R&R, it makes my day_ ^^

_Disclaimer: Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, own Harry Potter copyright. _

**Chapter 8**

'And Ripley has the snitch! The Falcons win their first match of the season 340 to 80.'

A mass of grey and white figures bundled their seeker sending him to the ground with an almighty thud as the surrounding crowd roared their approval.

Katie who had been balancing tensely on the edge of her seat for the past hour let out a deep breath. 'We have to get out of here, now!' she hissed, grabbing Alicia by the arm and steering her gaze away from the back of random cute guy's head. The brunette relented reluctantly and followed as her frazzled friend picked her way down the steep tiers towards the closest exit.

'Seriously, you'd think they were going to lynch you at the speed you're running. What did you do, steal their Berty Botts? Oh no, you didn't did you? I know we're poor but seriously, you have to ask yourself, is one good sugar rush really worth death by angry Quidditch mob?'

'I don't care about the crowd,' Katie muttered, eyes focused on her target, a large green EXIT sign a few hundred yards away. Alicia stopped, 'Oh really? Then what exactly do you care about KitKat? Because I'm wearing 6 inch heels today and I'm not running without a reason.'

Katie spun and glared at her 'friend'. Some friend, a good friend would move her arse without questions. In fact when she got home she was ripping up every smiling, happy go lucky photo they had ever taken together because a good friend would...

'Is this because he winked at you?'

'No.'

'No as in yes?'

'No.'

'Suit yourself.' Alicia tugged off her heels and walked over drawing level with her as they headed for the exit tunnel. 'But I wouldn't have minded if he'd winked at me, what with being a rugged, smouldering, chiselled, brooding, incredibly shaggable Quidditch captain and all. In fact maybe he was winking at me and we just got confused.'

'He was winking at me,' Katie blurted defensively before clapping a hand over her mouth.

A tall figure stepped out of the tunnel towards them, a recognisable smirk spreading across his face, 'So, you noticed?' Marcus Flint, smouldering, chiselled...shut up Katie, sauntered towards them. Turning to Ali for support she was met by a wicked smile and an 'Oh look, cute guy!' before finding herself completely alone with the brooding, toned...shut UP Katie!

'So, you noticed?' He repeated.

'I think most of my tier noticed Flint, thank you.'

'You're very welcome.'

She rolled her eyes. 'What are you doing out here anyway?'

'You happen to be standing by the player exit tunnel Bell.' A quick tilt of the head indicated a 'Restricted Access' sign to their left.

'Oh, well, I wasn't exactly looking where I was going while trying to avoid the Wimbourne mob.'

'And there I was thinking you were avoiding me.'

'Why would I do that?'

'Maybe because I'm a, let me see if I remember, a rugged, brooding, chiselled Quidditch captain, did I get it all?'

Katie shrugged in what she hoped was a nonchalant way refusing to acknowledge that he'd left out 'incredibly shaggable' among others. He smirked knowingly at the blush that crept over her cheeks. Damn, he'd done it on purpose! Now he thought he knew that she thought that he was shaggable.

'So what did you think?' He asked, breaking her out of her reverie.

'Hmm?'

'What did you think Bell? I assume you are capable of thought?'

Katie attempted to come up with some stinging retort, 'About your flying or your abs because if you're fishing for compliments I'm not biting.' Take that Mr 'I know I'm shaggable' Quidditch Captain!

'If I needed compliments Bell, I'd just look behind me.' He turned his gaze purposefully over one shoulder smiling at the swarms of rabid fan girls who appeared to have materialised in the brief span of their conversation. The second they realised they had his attention the screaming started.

Damnit, that probably made it Katie – 1, Flint – 5064. Just because she didn't have a drooling throng of insane followers intent on pinning her face to every available surface. They were probably all wearing official Marcus Flint underwear. If they even bothered to wear underwear at all.

'Merlin Bell, where is your head today?'

'Hmm?'

'Quidditch Bell, you just saw it and you were about to give me your opinion when a horde of Pygmy Puffs evidently decided to snack on your brain.'

Subconsciously Katie felt herself raise a hand to her head before lowering it quickly. 'Sorry, I was distracted by the group of incredibly classy and self respecting women to our left.' He smirked and she felt a slight stab of satisfaction that he didn't find the obsessive approach appealing. 'Honestly, you played well Flint.'

'Was that a compliment Bell?'

She nodded. 'I like to think I'm past the whole me Gryffindor, you slimy, selfish, up yourself, arrogant, self serving Slytherin thing.'

'Evidently.'

She smiled, 'Your feint was brilliant, most of your flying was. Having said that, was it really necessary to elbow Marr in the face?'

He shrugged, 'Perhaps not,' he relented, 'but it keeps the fans happy. Plans tonight?'

Katie looked up startled, 'Hmm?'

'Plans tonight, do you have any? Other than a trip to St Mungo's?'

'No, um, no plans.'

'Then perhaps I could buy you dinner? It could be my reward for playing an excellent game. I'd rather talk to someone who has some semblance of brain activity than,' he gestured back over his shoulder, 'them.'

Katie didn't trust herself to reply without Flint reassessing his opinion of her so she decided to play it safe and nod instead.

'Seven then, I'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron.' He turned to leave and then, right in front of his most hardcore admirers, he threw her the second wink in a day. 'Later Bell.'

So, he enjoyed putting her in mortal peril. Good to know.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: __This chapter is for teamtorretosupporter, thanks for the support :P And good news, from now on I will be regularly updating, posting 1/2 chapters a month. I know this chapter is short but I wanted to keep the whole date in one chapter which meant the 'getting ready' stage had to have it's own chap too xx  
_

_Disclaimer: In case you hadn't guessed, none of it's mine, not even Katie's dress :(_

_.  
_

**Chapter 9**_  
_

Katie gazed into the mirror ahead of her assessing her third possible outfit of the night. The remaining contents of her wardrobe were conveniently strewn across the room in what could be described as a 'post nuclear' arrangement. Sighing she swept a strand of blonde hair from her face and began searching for option number four.

'What the hell happened in here?' Alicia stood in the doorway, a slinky black dress clutched between her manicured fingers. 'When we said you could have the room we didn't expect you to detonate a fabric bomb in it. It looks like Project Runway meets The Pacific.'

Katie smiled sheepishly, 'Help?'

A grin spread across her friend's face, 'Only because you couldn't do it without me.' She made her way around the bed picking things off the floor as she went. 'You must be serious about this date then.'

Katie shrugged, 'Not really.'

'Enough to try on everything you own,' she paused at a pair of red heels, 'And apparently some of my stuff too.'

'I was trying it all on for sentimental reasons.'

Alicia raised an eyebrow and Katie reached for the nearest piece of evidence, 'Like this.' She held up a nearby crop top, 'I wore this crossing a road once.'

'Would you like me to pretend you didn't just try and use that to defend yourself?'

'Yes please.'

She nodded and returned to her assessment of Katie's clothes. The blonde bit her lip and waited checking herself in the mirror again.

'Got it.' Katie was met by a scrap of black material hurtling towards her face and caught it just in time, thankful for her dormant Quidditch reflexes. She eyed it suspiciously, 'Am I going to like this?'

The scrap turned out to be a short backless black dress covered in a thin layer of lace and tied across the shoulders at the back. Katie slipped into it gingerly, pausing to catch the shoes and accessories being hurled her way by an over excited brunette. Before she had reached for the ties Alicia was firmly pushing her into a seat, brandishing a mascara wand.

'I don't know what you're so worried about,' she said, coating Katie's lashes in a sooty black, 'If I remember correctly Flint wanted to jump you in a pair of jeans.'

'Shut up!' Katie swatted at her playfully, 'We're not telling Ange remember.'

Katie liked to think that keeping their friend out of the loop was technically for their own safety and Ange's own good. She may not have been Falcon like Marcus but she was temperamental at the best of times and once she calmed down she might be upset that she'd killed her flatmates over a Slytherin. Or maybe she'd think it was justified.

Alicia nodded. 'I'm sworn to secrecy, now stop moving before I poke you in the eye...accidently of course,' she added, finishing with the mascara and reaching for the eyeliner.

'Of course.'

* * *

What Marcus needed was a stiff drink. What he didn't need was Pucey's head in his fire.

'So you've finally snagged a Gryffindor princess.'

'I haven't snagged her Pucey, you make it sound like I'm fishing.'

'Aren't you?'

'It's a date Ade, she's not groupie. In fact she's a Gryffindor and they're near impossible to please.'

'Unless of course you're The Boy Who Lived, or Oliver-Sodding-Wood.'

'Just so we're on the same page, you do realise that I would have absolutely no qualms whatsoever about stoking your face?'

'Hmm, not sure what Witch Weekly would say about you defacing the face of their Charming Chaser.'

'I'm sure they'd forgive me, after all they'd still have Warrington.'

'Yes, but you forget Flint that Cassius doesn't have my incredible bone structure.'

Marcus reached for the fire tools.

'Alright, no need for violence Marcus. I'll show myself out.' His friend's smirking face vanished with a small _pop _and Marcus headed for the liquor cabinet and poured himself a Firewhisky.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: Hello again! I'm guessing after the tiny morsel you got last month a lot of people have been waiting for this. Sorry about that guys, but here it is! Chpater 10 is dedicated to BloodyNessyZambini, sorry I frustrated you last time!  
_

_Disclaimer: If I were JK Rowling Harry Potter would have been more fashion forward with his eye wear :P  
_

**Chapter 10**

Seven thirty. Marcus glanced between the clock and the empty glass in front of him. Should he be starting to worry? Given her state at his match yesterday he wouldn't put it past Bell to forget how to apparate and then lose her way walking the streets of muggle London. She'd probably stopped to pet a stray animal. That sounded appropriately Gryffindor. Or maybe she just wasn't coming. As quickly as he'd thought it he pushed the idea away, she was coming. She was just, late, or lost, or...she wasn't coming. His Slytherin Pride kicked into overdrive.

Carelessly he threw a handful of galleons down on the bar, reached for his coat and made his way to the door determined to find his date, only to collide with an incredibly attractive and slightly distressed Katie. His eyes took the time to linger on the way that the dress she had chosen hugged at curves that certainly hadn't existed in her fourth year and a few blonde tendrils that had escaped her half pinned hair to curl invitingly around her face.

'Oh Flint, it's you!' She paused as she took in the coat in his hand, 'You weren't leaving were you?' His focus returned and he noticed that her blue eyes were wide with worry. Something in him responded instinctively, 'Only to look for you.'

A laugh escaped her. 'Did I really earn a search party?'

Relief spread through him as he guided her to a small table, 'You took your time.'

'I know, I'm sorry I'm late.'

'Better late than never.'

'Funny, I didn't know that the Slytherin ego left any room for insecurity. I thought you'd just assume I'd kept that appointment at St Mungo's.'

'The thought did cross my mind.'

Her smile widened and she swatted at him as the barkeeper ambled across the crowded room to their table. 'What'll it be Flint?' He began before recognising the smoky eyed blonde across the table. 'Well if it isn't Katherine Bell!' If it was possible Katie smiled even wider. 'Tom!'

'Forgot you'd graduated this year, was missing you around the start of term I was.'

'I missed you too Tom,' she assured him.

'And how are them other girls keeping?'

'They're doing great, Angie made the reserve team for the Hollyhead Harpies.'

The barkeeper nodded, 'Always was a hellcat that one. So, what're you doing with this lout?' He tossed his head in Marcus' direction who did his best not to look affronted.

'Inter-house bonding,' she replied turning her smile on Marcus. He shot her a wry smirk in return. Tom huffed a little, obviously having his own doubts about the idea until Katie spoke again and almost immediately his frown melted into a soft expression of affection. Flint was beginning to notice that Bell had that effect on people; it was like she'd managed to turn happiness into some kind of contagious disease.

'A butter beer for me and...'

'Fire whisky,' Marcus finished.

Tom nodded and made his way back across the crowded room to the bar.

Marcus leaned back in his chair, 'So Bell, what exactly held your fascination for the last half hour?'

'Well, there was this cat...'

He nodded, of course there was.

* * *

The restaurant was not what Katie had expected. It was a small stonework building off a main road with 'Daphne's' printed in neat lettering above the door. The maitre d' smiled warmly as he saw Marcus approach and held out a hand. 'Mr Flint, welcome back.'

'Thank you Paulo. This,' his hand settled on her lower back bringing her forward, 'is Katie Bell.'

'Bellisima,' the Italian crooned, taking her coat and leading the way through a small maze of tables finally seating them by a small stone fireplace. 'Your waiter will be here in moments, yes?'

Marcus nodded and Katie smiled genially as Paulo scurried back through the tables to greet another couple. 'He seems nice.'

'He is, a little flamboyant maybe, but a good man.' She nodded concealing another smile. This was the side of Marcus that she'd never seen at Hogwarts. He seemed genuinely friendly and no one here was scared of him. She began to wonder whether the man across from her now was a step up from the Slytherin 'troll' or whether he'd always been just a little softer than he let on. She doubted he'd ever tell her anyway.

'I didn't mention it earlier but you look lovely tonight Bell.'

'Why thank you Flint, you look alright yourself.' Ok that was an understatement. Katie guessed he was the sort of guy who threw anything on and just happened to look perfect. Thinking back on her preparations for tonight she was almost envious. His black button down was just form fitting enough to give the suggestion of muscle and she wouldn't be surprised if his jeans cost triple figures. In summary, Marcus Flint looked hot.

'Enjoying the view Bell?' Katie flushed as her eyes found a signature smirk plastered across her date's face. 'Aren't you?' she countered. _Ha, what are you going to say to that Mr Smirky McSlytherin? _

'Oh, considerably Bell, don't doubt it.' _Damn_. Her flush deepened as he allowed his eyes to roam her figure. She felt a heat coil in her stomach at his predatory gaze. He was practically smouldering as his eyes found her lips. Desperately she searched for a retort.

'Er, so what's good? To eat?' _Yeah, that was really clever. Really snappy._

'The gnocchi's fine,' he conceded leaning back and Katie could feel the intensity of the moment ebbing away. A small wave of disappointment washed over her and she almost regretted saying anything. Wait, what had he just said?

'Gnocchi?'

Gnocchi, it turned out, was a strange but tasty cross between pasta and dumplings. Marcus had ordered the dish and let her steal from his plate, chuckling at her attempts at subtlety from across the table and in turn giving Katie the giggles. Paulo kept glancing at her with a knowing smile on his face as he totalled the bill and Katie felt her cheeks flush before Marcus promptly distracted her again.

'Ready to go?' She nodded and allowed him to help her to her feet, guiding her back out onto the street. 'Well Miss Bell, it appears I made the right choice not taking you to The Golden Cauldron.'

Katie smiled and played along, 'Is that so, Mr Flint? And may I ask why that is?'

'Indeed you may Miss Bell.'

There was a pause as she waited for him to elaborate, he smirked and she realised that he was also waiting for her, to ask. She rolled her eyes, 'Why?'

'So glad you asked, to be perfectly honest I wasn't sure you'd be up for 'minced flobberworm', it's an acquired taste.'

Katie tried her best to look offended, 'Are you suggesting, Mr Flint, that I'm not refined enough to enjoy,' her nose wrinkled, 'minced flobberworm?'

He smiled down at her, 'Of course not Miss Bell, I'm suggesting that it tastes like something one might find at the arse end of a Hippogriff.'

Katie nearly collapsed laughing. The fact that Marcus was stood patiently in front of her waiting for her to get it over with only made it worse as she fell into a new fit of giggles.

'When you're quite finished Bell, I'll apparate you home. I think at the present moment it'd probably splinch you.'

She nodded, trying to pull herself together and failing miserably. Marcus sighed, 'Bell...'

She laughed harder.

'Bell!'

Nothing.

'Katie.'

Had Marcus Flint just called her Katie? She straightened, wiping her tearing eyes with a finger.

'Sorry Marcus.' He gazed at her strangely for a minute as if trying to register what she had just said. Looking at it she guessed that his expression probably mirrored hers from a few seconds before, fortunately for him he recovered quickly. 'Right, let's get out of here then.' Taking her by the arm he apparated, landing them on the doormat of the flat she shared with the girls.

He gave her a once over, his earlier predatory smile spreading slowly across his lips, 'Night Bell.'

She felt her brain struggling to form words. _Now is not the time to melt into a pile of 'stupid', Katie. Think. Think!_ But those eyes were getting closer and if she was being honest with herself she didn't really feel like thinking, she'd rather just...

His lips grazed lightly over hers and Katie felt herself tremble as his arms wrapped themselves around her waist drawing her closer. Her arms wound around his neck and her fingers found his hair. The kiss became languid, almost lazy and Katie gave in, melting against him with a small sigh. _Flint can kiss. Oh yes can!_

'What the hell is this?'

Katie stumbled back from Marcus abruptly and straight into the firing line of a death glare, courtesy of Angelina Johnson.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: So chapter 11 is just a tiny tiny chapter as a prequel to a very long chapter 12 that will be up tomorrow or the day after. This one's for 90sgurl :) Hope it whets your appetites.._

_Disclaimer: _

_A Friend: 'So if it came down to owning Marcus Flint or the world what would you choose?'_

_Me: 'Who really needs the world anyway? I mean, they're saying Mars is habitable now..'_

**Chapter 11**

And who'd've guessed that yet again Katie Bell would find herself in mortal peril thanks to a certain Quidditch star?

She had to give Marcus credit. He'd made a good effort to look suitably embarrassed at being caught making out with 'the enemy' before kissing her soundly and apparating out of harm's way. Traitor.

'What were you thinking?'

'I...'

'It was a rhetorical question, you weren't thinking!'

'Oh.'

For the second time in a week Katie found herself sitting at the kitchen counter while Angelina hurled abuse and occasionally silverware at no one in particular. Alicia had appeared in the doorway shortly after their discovery, probably tipped off by the screaming and had mouthed an apology over Angie's shoulder for not getting there first. She now slunk back into the kitchen towelling off her shower dampened hair.

'Ange, do we need to go through your breathing exercises again?' she joked.

Angelina growled.

'Nope? Okay then.' She scuttled across the room to stand by Katie. There was safety in numbers, hopefully.

'He's a Slytherin Katie!' More banging as her fiery tempered friend searched the surrounding cupboards for a clean mug. Tea usually had a noticeably soothing effect and was now prescribed by the three as a general cure for freak outs, panic attacks and psychotic breakdowns.

'Was...'

'What?' She asked irritably, checking the cupboards above the sink.

'He _was_ a Slytherin.' Katie repeated hesitantly, 'Now he's a Quidditch player.' Angie would be reasonable, she liked Quidditch players.

'For the fucking Falcons! They're like the Slytherin seniors! It's like they're all beaters, only some of them don't have bats so they just use their limbs instead!' Evidently not all Quidditch players then. 'They should have been relegated by now for the shit they're pulling...'

Katie sighed and felt Alicia slump on the stool next to hers. You knew things were bad when Angie started swearing.

'I mean, who do they think they are? Just because their stadiums practically made of Ministry money..'

The argument dragged on for the next few hours with heavy use of the words 'git', 'prick', 'bloody Slytherin' and on one occasion 'probably a Death Eater.' In the end between the two of them Katie and Alicia managed to convince Ange that who Katie dated was her own business but had to accept that their friend wouldn't be sporting a Team Flint t-shirt any time soon. Oh and she wanted to have a_ talk_ with Marcus after work tomorrow. Just fantastic.


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Is anybody out there? Hi guys, bet you weren't thinking you'd ever see me again. I could pour on the excuses but the truth is that something bad happened to my family in the beginning of 2012 and it completely took over my life for three months, by the time it was over I had forgotten all about my stories. I only actually remembered when I got an update about an old favourite story of mine receiving a new chapter. Then I saw that someone had actually reviewed this story just after my 21st birthday this year. I went back onto my very old laptop and found a draft I had written for chapters 12 and 13. _

_It's been slow work finding my feet again and I can't guarantee that it will pick up pace very quickly but I feel like I owe it to everyone who ever took that time to express their feelings for my story to give you an ending. I'm starting small and any reviews with tips on things that are still great or things that have got rusty would be greatly appreciated. You guys never gave up on me and so I promise this story won't give up on you. _

_Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the pathetic attempts at banter :)_

**Chapter 12**

The beat thrummed through the club as people swayed and chatted by the bar, topping up two galleon glasses of Ogden's.

Katie laughed and poured a Firewhisky for tall, dark and stumbling who continued to insist that he was definitely sober. Bachelor parties were common at the club, especially Quidditch star bachelor parties.

'You know I play for the wasps, the Wimbly Wasps.'

'Wimbourne, yeah you might have mentioned it,' Katie flashed him a practised smile, 'Six or seven times.'

He nodded slowly, 'The Wimbly Wasps. I'm a beater.' He paused. 'I hit things. '

Katie struggled to hold back another giggle, 'I'm sure you do.'

'Need me to take over?' Ange slipped across the bar, smiling at their companion. 'Ben wants to talk to you. Apparently you're better with _friend_ stuff.'

'Probably because you two have yet to see past your Quidditch differences.'

Her friend shrugged, 'No, it's probably because he's an idiot.'

Tall, dark and stumbling took this opportunity to give the new arrival the once over, 'You're Anglia Josson!' He bellowed, a stupid smile spreading across his face, 'You play Quidditch! I play Quidditch!'

'All righty then,' Katie smiled and gave Ange's hand a quick squeeze before moving towards the other end of the bar where Ben was serving a quickly growing group of female customers. 'What's up?'

'I need your help, with,' his voice lowered conspiratorially, '_relationship_ stuff.'

Playing along Katie lowered her own voice to a whisper, 'Why are you asking me?'

'Are you, or are you not Agent Bell dating the infamous Mr Flint of the equally incorrigible Falcons?'

'That, Agent Hayes, is classified information.'

'So classified that even I know?'

Katie groaned, 'True.'

'Sorry Kates, looks like the_ Kat's_ out of the bag.'

'That, was terrible.'

'You'll be dealing with the press soon and I can guarantee some headlines will be even worse. Rita Skeeter's bound to come up with a right shiner.'

'I can see it now.'

'Flint _chasers_ a new lady, Beau Bell: Quite a _catch_, On your_ Marcus, Sex_, Go!'

Gasping, Katie slapped him with the nearest dish cloth. 'Just get on with the problem before I hex you so bad you'll be walking backwards until June.'

'Hate to break it to you Kates, it is June.'

'Did you want my help?'

Ben paused, his usual Chesire cat grin replaced by the painfully awkward expression on his face. 'Where do you take a girl on a date?'

Katie laughed, 'When have you ever had trouble with dates?'

Her friend gave a noncommittal shrug, 'This is different.'

She nodded jokingly, 'Because this one isn't married..'

A smile broke through the concern on his face as he leaned back against the bar, 'Exactly, Katie my darling, because this one isn't married.'

'Well, I...'

'Daphne's.' A low lilting voice broke into the conversation. Katie looked up from their conspiratorial discussion and saw Marcus standing just behind Ben's shoulder. His shirt was grey today, a shade of slate that looked a little like the dark silver of the Gringotts private banking cards she was used to handling behind the bar. It definitely suited him. Meeting his eyes, she blushed lightly at the smirk that spread across his face, an effortless quirk of his lips. 'A Firewhiskey, please.'

She nodded, turning back to the bar and measuring out an amber shot. 'Anything else?'

'I can think of a few things.'

Katie felt a small smile creep up on her and tried to stifle it as Marcus reached for his glass and downed the shot, without breaking eye contact. She bit her lip watching the muscles in his neck contract as he knocked back the whiskey. _Merlin, he looks good. How does he always look this good? Does Flint _own_ a t-shirt? Has he even heard of polyester?_ A small black and gold coaster hit the side of her head and she caught Ben tutting at her before turning to Marcus and sticking out a hand.

'Ben. Katie's non-romantic better half. She wishes it were something more but I have a thing for brunettes you see. I'm sure she would have introduced me but she has no manners, pity.'

His lip quirked again as he lowered the glass back onto the bar before shaking Ben's offered hand, 'Marcus.'

'You said something about Daphne's?'

Katie's eyes lit up, 'It's amazing.'

Marcus had the good grace to look humble as he nodded. 'It's certainly special.'

Katie beamed, 'You should try the gnocchi.'

'What's gnocchi?'

A few gold strands escaped her pinned hair as she shrugged, 'No idea, but it tastes fantastic.'

Ben laughed, 'Sounds about right.'

Marcus reached out across the bar suddenly, his hand brushing across Katie's hair. She felt sparks at the contact, her blue eyes gazing across at his in surprise. _He's going to kiss me, Holy hippogriffs he's actually going to..._ His fingers ducked nimbly behind her ear retrieving the pen she stashed there for long orders. Picking a coaster off the bar he scrawled a number in gold ink and handed it to Ben. 'Ask for Paulo, he'll look after you.'

Katie's friend nodded and he smiled genially at Marcus, ribbing a still dazed Katie with an elbow, 'I like this one, you can keep him.' Marcus let out a low laugh. 'Anyway Kates, judging by this watch here I'd say it's time for you to come off shift.' Grabbing one of the ties of her apron he pulled it loose and chucked it under the bar. 'Be free!'

Katie rolled her eyes as and hopped up onto the polished wood, kicking her legs over the edge so that she sat directly in front of Flint. 'Hello.'

He offered her a slow smile, stepping forward between her legs. 'Hello.' In that moment Katie thought she might melt.

Another voice sounded from behind the bar, 'Hello.'

Katie sighed and turned to give her best friend a weak smile. 'Hi Ange.'

* * *

Marcus suppressed a groan as he pulled himself back from Katie to a respectable distance, noting that her hands instinctively reached out to keep him there before returning to her sides.

'Johnson. A pleasure.'

'Flint. Not so much.'

'Ben. Firewhiskey!' Katie called.

'I see that the Harpies put up a fantastic fight against the Arrows yesterday. I thought I recognised that Woollongong Shimmy from your fourth year. I assume you had a hand in it.'

Ange gave a noncommittal nod.

'Have they told you when you might be making the first team?'

This time he was rewarded with a small shrug as Angelina tipped back two of the three shots on the bar before staring him down, which at half his size was quite a feat.

'Look Flint. I know you. And not the old you, though Godric knows he wasn't an ideal candidate either, but you now. You're the captain of one of the league's most popular teams. You have a different girl in your bed every night, two from my own team so don't try and tell me it's not true. If you're after Katie because she's a Gryffindor and therefore unattainable I am telling you now that is exactly how she is going to stay, unattainable. I will not have you using her like all your other groupies. Do you understand me?'

A silence fell over the small group.

'Marcus?' Katie prompted, watching as his expression darkened.

'Johnson, I would never..'

'Marcus!' A tangle of green silk and red hair flung itself at Flint, smiling coyly. Katie recognised her as Grace, one of the hostesses. They'd never spoken but she was aware of the other girl's reputation around Quidditch men, especially captains. 'Why didn't you say you were going to be here?' She snaked a perfectly manicured hand around the back of his neck, her scarlet nails resting on his shoulder, toying with the collar of his grey shirt. Angelina arched an eyebrow and Katie drew her legs towards herself as Grace prattled on.

'I think I left my heels in your living room, or maybe your bathroom..' She giggled up at him and Katie felt sick. She could see Marcus' eyes on her, trying to read her take on what was happening and made an attempt to look neutral. She waited for him to deny it, to plead with her, but then she guessed she should have known better than to expect an apology from Marcus Flint. Forcing a smile onto her face she faced him like an old friend.

'Anyway, it was nice to see you Flint.' Her voice sounded hollow in her own head. 'Ange and I were just leaving.'

Slipping down from the bar she let Ange take her hand and guide her between the throngs of people and out into the cool London air.


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: Only one day late! This may very well be an all time record. Anyway, thank you for all the wonderful reviews for the last chappy, made my day! For all of you expecting a major confrontation you'll be waiting one more week but hopefully this chapter will still be worth it and it does constitute a pretty major part of the storyline. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. If JK had also written this fic, it too would have been a literary masterpiece. _

**Chapter 13**

'_Oh my poor heart, where has it gone? It's left me for a spell...'_

Snap! The chocolate between Katie's fingers broke in two as the crooning tones of Celestina Warbeck's _'You Charmed the Heart Right Out of Me' _filled the apartment. Last night had been humiliating. How could she have believed Marcus Flint would show any real interest in her? Glancing down at the soft cotton of her snitch print pyjama shorts she sighed at her distinctly average build. Seven years of Quidditch had kept her in good shape but it didn't seem like nearly enough next to the perfectly coiffed hair and tottering heels of Grace. He was probably laughing right now at how a silly little Gryffindor nearly let him...

'Kates!' Alicia closed the door behind her, redoing the locking spells and reaching down to pick up the post off their doormat before it 'disappeared'. A distant relative had sent it to Ange for her twentieth birthday and Katie could swear she'd seen it eat at least three restaurant leaflets. While important letters arrived by owl, muggle bills and such still came through the letter box.

Alicia swept through the living room, dropping her coat over the arm of a nearby chair and plopped down on the sofa next to her. 'You haven't moved since I left for the Ministry at ten. In fact you've probably left this sofa forever imprinted with a lovely mould of your bum. We should auction it off and retire to Barbados.' Katie attempted a smile that seemed to fall somewhere nearer a grimace.

'Look, Flint's an arse. We've known that since second year. How many of your bones has he broken?'

'Three.'

'See what I mean?'

'But I did break his nose, twice.'

'Yes, but that was a vast aesthetic improvement.'

This time she managed a laugh and reached out to hug her friend. They sat like that quietly for a minute as Celestina's voice continued to warble in the background. It was Alicia who broke the comfortable silence.

'Kates, I love you but wallowing makes you smell bad. Do us all a favour and go take a shower. You'll feel way better, promise.'

Katie cuffed her around the head with a giggle and dragged herself off the sofa, in the direction of the bathroom. Just as she moved into the hall a tap sounded at the window. The girls turned to see a large Long Eared owl hovering patiently outside, a small fold of parchment tied to its leg.

'I'll get it.' Alicia called. Reaching out she slid open the window and was greeted with an affable hoot as the owl made itself comfortable on the nearest table. Katie waved and closed the bathroom door behind her.

* * *

Marcus sat quietly in a corner of the Falcon's changing room as the rest of his team laughed jovially and slapped each other across the shoulders. Thanks to an impressive series of painful confrontations they knew better than to interfere when their captain was taking some 'me time'. They beat the Bats 230-140 but Flint's game had been sub-par to say the least.

_Why should he have to apologise? Why was it always his responsibility to be sorry? Just because he was a Slytherin did that mean that anything he did that a Gryffindor didn't agree with was obviously evil? They weren't even together! _ Their date had sealed the deal. He was Katie's and Katie was his, like she should have been since Hogwarts. Why should whoever came before that even matter? For Salazar's sake, the girl was infuriating!

'Marcus.' Pucey sat himself down on a bench across from his captain, keeping his precious face out of reach of any stray fists.

Flint grunted.

'Right. As fantastically insightful as that was then boys want to go home.'

Marcus rubbed his hands across his face and stood up with a low groan, 'Good game everyone, I meant it. You can leave. I'll see you all tomorrow, 6am. Who are we playing next?'

'The Harpies, in two weeks.'

* * *

'Kates! Ohmygosh! KATIE! KATHERINE BELL!'

Katie felt the stream of hot water come to an abrupt stop as she turned the shower handle and scrambled for a towel. Wrapping herself up she flung open the door. 'What's wrong? Ali?'

Alicia was standing at the door with a huge grin on her face, 'This is for you.' She handed over the folded parchment from the recent owl, who was still helping himself to treats on the end of the sofa. Katie took it and focused on the bold print.

**Dear Ms Bell, **

**Thank you for applying for a position at The Daily Prophet. After a six month waiting list a space has cleared. Given your experience at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on your House Quidditch team and links to professional Quidditch entities, we feel you have the necessary credentials to join us as a member of our team of Sports journalists and editors. Please send us a reply if you must decline the offered position of junior columnist, otherwise we look forward to welcoming you on Monday. **

**Yours sincerely, **

**K. Thomas**

**Senior Quidditch Correspondent. **


End file.
